


People Lie and Wolves Die

by EgoDominusTuus



Series: Like Good Soldiers [6]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Anger, Deacon is a Sad Boy, Gen, Hurt, Pain, Psychic Wolves, Psychic Wolves For Lupercalia, Two Survivors AU, lying, original characters death, wolf death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoDominusTuus/pseuds/EgoDominusTuus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The truth was, people lied and wolves died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	People Lie and Wolves Die

I’d been keeping tabs on Quinn and Silas King since they’d exited Vault 111 with their two bitchwolves and started a big stir in the Commonwealth. Travis - the stuttering host of Diamond City Radio - spoke about someone emerging from the Vault. Piper - who never saw me without asking for an exclusive - wrote an article about them. Deacon - that’s me, and it’s a codename - sat back and  _ observed.  _ I watched them when they went to the Mayor’s Office, demanding help with entrance to Kellogg’s house - I watched the way that Quinn leaned forward, his bright green eyes wide and his charm practically oozing off of him thick enough to scoop and bottle. You could probably sell it for a hundred caps a pop. 

  I watched them when they went to the Memory Den, closed up in my pod. I could see the way that Silas King twitched in apprehension at entering the memory pod, but he took the bullet, because his companion seemed anxious. 

  I saw them pass through Goodneighbor, helping men like Kent and rescuing kids like MacCready. I watched them  _ a lot _ . I’m not embarrassed to say that I was a bit envious of them. They had such a tight bond - Silas with his wolf Valeriya, and Quinn with a girl he called Fina. It made memories that I tried to twist and hide from spill to the surface. They worked their way through the Commonwealth with purpose, but they never hesitated when someone needed help. 

  So, when they came a’knockin’ on the Railroads door, of course, I vouched to Desdemona for their usefulness. Men like those two in the Railroad could only do good. I wasn’t pleased, but I wasn’t pissed when we were partnered up. I had to look past my jealousy, though it was hard, to see that the two were more than just friends - they were lovers, and they seemed to realize that the bond they had was a really fucking spectacular thing.

  Of course, from the moment we met, I lied to them. I lied about the fact that I was a Synth, though only Quinn was gullible enough to try to use my recall code. I lied about the fact that I was the leader of the Railroad, and Silas King had called me quick on my bullshit. Eventually, I found myself so caught up in their ability to call my lies, and the way that they stood beside me and seemed to really  _ care _ that I wanted to tell them the truth.

  Even when the time came for that, I couldn’t quite manage it. It all started out well enough - I told them about belonging to the Deathclaws, about our gang lynching an innocent man. I told them that I was a piece of shit when I was younger, and they looked at me with nonjudgemental eyes and clear expressions. My stomach twisted at their acceptance - but it wasn’t really my past as a hoodlum that I was so ashamed of.

  It was the fact that I’d let her die. I’d let her die, because of my associations - and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t wish they’d killed me instead of her. I was hoping, with their bonds… their connection.

  Maybe… maybe they’d understand. I had to open my mouth - I had to try. I hadn’t told anyone about her… and the weight of it was on my chest like a hand around my heart. 

_   “She saw something in me that I didn’t know was there. Barbra, well, she was… she just was.”  _

  And then I told them about Barbra - my  _ wife _ , who the Deathclaws had killed because I’d left them cold and they found out she was a synth. I told them about the life that we’d had, how we were just trying to get by… and I told them that the Railroad had found me after I’d slaughtered all of my former gang-brothers. They’d given me sympathy, pity, understanding…

  And I felt like a complete fraud, because even then, I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

  Even then, I was lying. Silas King and Quinn were my only friends, and even for them, I couldn’t face the truth.

 

\---

  She saw something in me that I didn’t know was there. Barbra, well, she was… she just was. Her golden eyes were the sweetest thing that I’d ever seen, and it was my bond with her that really saved me from the Deathclaws and their grip on me. She saved me from myself. Barbra was my sweet-wolf sister, and even I hadn’t known that she was a synthetic creation released by the Institute. To me, she just _ was _ . 

  After I left the Deathclaws, she found me - I was broken, shattered by my own guilt and the memory of the man who I’d helped lynch, his expression, burned into my mind. I was curled up in the ruins of a building… and then there’d been the warm, wet sensation of her nosing against my neck. I’d opened my eyes, but there wasn’t time for fear. There was just the sweet smell of  _ disinfectant and summer rain _ and her brown pelt as she shifted to lay against me.  _ Acceptance  _ and  _ belonging  _ washed over me in the same careful strokes that her tongue washed over my dirty face. Some of the Deathclaws had been bonded to wolf brothers or bitches, but I’d never expected it to feel so… soothing. I’d never expected to feel so at home. To me, her name was Barbra, and she gently prodded the name  _ regret and shadows  _ into my mind… and I used to wonder all the time how either of those names had a scent at all.

**

  We got as far away from the Deathclaws as we could, settled down on a little abandoned farm. I wanted her to have pups, to have a whole little family of fluffy fur to keep us company, but the chance never came. I don’t know how the Deathclaws found us, and I don’t know how  _ they _ knew about Barbra when I didn’t… but they did. A bullet to my collarbone sent me crashing to my feet, and it was only her snarling, snapping teeth that stopped them from putting one in my head. It seemed to work all the better for them though, because they held me, arms wrenched behind my back, as they lifted their gun again. Her golden eyes turned to mine, like she knew why I was screaming - of course she knew… and then there was gunfire. 

  And then there was nothing.

  For a while after that, I lost myself. 

  I wasn’t lost, really, because I could remember all of the blood. I could remember the way that Trent and Michael screamed - the way that they stared at me in horror when I shot their wolves between the eyes and didn’t even blink at the spatter of blood. I could remember the way that screaming stopped when I turned my gun on them. 

  I could remember that it took hours, even though I could have finished in fifteen minutes… and I could remember that  _ regret and shadows  _ had been replaced with  _ blood and revenge _ … 

  And I could remember that even after I’d killed them all, my heart still felt empty. Half of my _ self _ was gone, because my sister was dead, and killing all of the Deathclaws in the world would never bring her back. 

  I crawled back to her body after I was finished, curling myself around her dead and bloody frame, feeling like a bastard for staining her coat anymore… but I didn’t want to go anywhere other than where she was. The pounding silence of the presence that  _ was not _ was deafening… and I’d cried then.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d cried for, but that was how Desdemona had found me. Curled around my sister and covered in blood. She told me she was from the Railroad, and that their intelligence had mentioned the Institute telling a gang called the Deathclaws that one of their experiments had escaped. I could see the sorrow in her eyes that she hadn’t made it to us in time - the guilt that she had when she looked down at my sister’s fallen form. She put a name to the face of who had caused all of this - the Institute. They’d given me Barbra, and then they’d taken her away… and I could never forgive them. Des held her hand out to me, and she didn’t flinch when she saw my bloody fingers. Instead, she told me that I could  _ help _ , and she offered me a place amongst the Railroad. 

  I took her hand on one condition - she never told anyone about Barbra. That was my lie to make up - and she’d agreed. She stayed with me while I buried Barbra, and she never batted an eye when I introduced myself as Deacon instead of using my real name. That was my first lie, and I found solace in the disillusion of the truth. Because the truth was that people lied, and wolves died.

  And that just wasn’t a reality that I was willing to face. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Truth of a Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266815) by [EgoDominusTuus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgoDominusTuus/pseuds/EgoDominusTuus)




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